after work...
I trek home as an aching carcass,
melting cartoon character with river limbs
pulled apart and painfully
sloshing about in their confines.
Clothes shed like snake skin to the floor,
a slow and sticky peel down the body,
but I am left with flesh caked rigidly onto sore muscles,
screaming torn tissue paper insides.
My blood is made of crashing caffeine aftermath
and I wonder what I could weave
with all my fallen-out hairs.
Skip the bathroom,
swallow a pill,
collapse.
I lay on the mattress, lights on,
face up to all the stars I cannot see,
waiting for something
to take me.
YOU ARE READING
Moments Belonging to No One: A National Poetry Month Chapbook
PoetryApril is National Poetry Month, and I have decided, in honor of the month, to write 30 poems for each of the 30 days. A lot happened in my life throughout this month. Mostly what I wrote about was heartache, breakups, exhaustion, and the way life mo...
